


Shiva in the White House

by ATwistOfLemonLyman



Series: The Gods Have Conspired [21]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gen, Judaism, M/M, Vignette, more of a Major Character Death Mention, so there are no 'on screen' deaths here, unrequited and one sided Sam/Josh, vignettes within a series of vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-26 13:38:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9900020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ATwistOfLemonLyman/pseuds/ATwistOfLemonLyman
Summary: Various characters try to come to terms with Josh Lyman's mortality.





	1. Ryan Pierce

**Washington D.C. - 2043**

* * *

 

 

   Ryan Pierce rounded up the most trusted members of the Senior Staff and told them that their jobs were going to be a little harder for the next few days and that he expected them to rise to the occasion. There would be no setting of fires that would require the President to put out, they would make sure that the West Wing continued to run like a well-oiled machine. Ryan was willing to move heaven and earth to make sure nothing ended up on the President's literal and figurative desk unless it absolutely needed to.

  It hadn't felt callous when, after being informed of Josh's condition and the President had left for GW Hospital, Ryan had started making calls in order to prepare for the possibility of Josh's death.  There was only so much he could plan at that point but the prognosis had not been good and he had to get ahead. 

  Ryan knew that even if Josh had never been particularly religious the President was. The funeral would have to be right away, he knew that it was highly likely that the President would want to have something that at least remotely resembled sitting Shiva; whatever the constraints of the President’s time-consuming job would allow. 

  And then there was Josh's status, not just as the President's father, but also as a long-time leading figure in the party and major influence on the American political world for nearly the last five decades; that meant that a great many people would want to attend some sort of memorial. Ryan would of course have to work with the Lyman family to finalize any arrangements but he wanted to make sure that whatever they needed could be taken care of as quickly and as efficiently as possible. 

  "I'm not even dead yet and you're already planning my funeral," Ryan imagined Josh saying to him, half whining and half teasing. 

  Those imagined words pierced the soft part of Ryan that he liked to hide, the side that, if discovered, many would think clashed with the "devious frat boy at heart" persona he had cultivated over the years. 

  For a brief moment he felt guilty for jumping the gun. 

  But the rational part of Ryan came to his swift defense. 

  "What else are you supposed to do," it asked. "You've got to be prepared, you've got to make their lives easier because this is going to be hell for all of them. You promised Josh you'd do your job so that the President could do his, so get back to work, you can have a shot of something strong and yell at the monument of your choice when all this is done."

  And so, Ryan went back to making phone calls and looking at calendars, planning and organizing for any eventuality, because that's what Josh would want him to do. This was how he planned to mourn his mentor for now, by ensuring that his son could mourn him properly; there would be time for tears later. 


	2. Sam's Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has a revelation, Toby isn't surprised.

**Maryland - 2043**

* * *

 Sam and Toby were sitting in a secluded corner of Andy’s backyard. Sam had come directly to Andy's from the airport with Ainsley. Sam’s two Secret Service agents were parked in front of the house and Ainsley was in the living room with CJ, Andy, and the rest of Toby’s family.

  Toby had known that there was something on his friend’s mind the moment he'd seen him so he dragged him outside and away from everyone else as fast as his old joints would allow, and had waited patiently for whatever it was that was eating away at Sam to come out.

  “I loved him,” Sam whispered, half to himself, as if the statement was more for Sam's own benefit than Toby's.

  Toby knew what he meant, he wasn’t blind and he wasn't stupid, he’d seen the way Sam had sometimes looked at Josh, there had always been something more than admiration in Sam’s bright blue eyes.

  Toby wondered if Donna had ever noticed. Maybe she'd been too in love with Josh to notice, maybe she'd been too busy being distracted by Mandy Hampton and later Amy Gardner’s presence in Josh’s life to notice that someone else was making eyes at Josh. Maybe her world had been too heteronormative then for her to even consider-

  And then Sam had left, Josh and Donna had gotten married, Sam had returned and was single only briefly before marrying Ainsley and after that he’d only had eyes for the brilliant blond Republican sex kitten he'd married.

  But obviously Sam hadn't forgotten how he'd felt. How could he- how could anyone- forget something far stronger than a crush on someone as magnetic as Josh.

  “Did he- did he know?” Toby wasn't sure he wanted any answers, it felt far too private, something that should’ve only been between Josh and Sam.

  “I don’t think so, he never- he never said anything- we never talked about it. I don’t even know if he liked- you know-”

  It amazed Toby how hard it was for either of them to say it, to say that maybe Josh had also been attracted to men as well as women. They were both open-minded liberals, Toby had grown up with a Lesbian sister and his daughter was Bisexual, but like Sam he couldn't say that maybe Josh had been Bisexual out loud. It wasn't sexuality that was the issue, it was that Josh was gone and so many things had gone unsaid, it felt strange and not a little painful to ask questions they could no longer find the answers to.

  He had always wondered, especially after noticing how Sam and Josh had interacted with each other, after seeing how tactile Josh was with Sam, but as the first Bartlet Campaign had progressed and their little group had gotten closer he had realized that Josh was that tactile with just about anyone he cared about; he liked to touch and be touched. Josh, who most of the time was wound tighter than a spring, would appear to unwind if Leo so much as brushed a hand against his shoulder. Josh and Donna seemed to have lost any understanding of personal space early in their relationship, it hadn't been anything inappropriate as some of the staff had been afraid it might be, they were just always huddled together going over polling data and electoral math, Josh explaining things to Donna, Donna sharing some semi-related trivia that would light a spark in Josh’s brain, and when Donna came back after her brief disappearance Toby had noticed the way his hand found it’s way to the small of her back. Then there was the way he was with CJ, at first it had been the source of mild jealousy when Toby had seen the way Josh would hug CJ; but Toby had seen CJ interact with her brothers and the way Josh and CJ behaved around each other wasn’t at all different. Even Zoey Bartlet couldn’t escape Josh’s affection, he could often be found with his arm slung around Zoey’s shoulder, the two of them laughing like two conspirators and Josh humoring her the way he would a little sister. So, Toby was left doubting, was there something romantic or sexual between Sam and Josh or was this just the familial affection Josh bestowed upon everyone in his new found-family?

  Things hadn’t gotten much clearer as the campaign and then the administration progressed. Over time Toby had learned certain things about Josh and his family. The Lymans, it seemed were a small clan, those days it was Josh, his mother, and his mother’s cousin (who wasn’t technically a Lyman). He had discovered all of that right after the Illinois Primary, when he had noticed something going on with Josh and Donna while everyone was celebrating, the two of them disappearing, followed by Leo, and then Donna and Leo coming back without him and Leo pulling the governor aside.

  “He was so nice on the phone,” Donna had told Toby. Donna had sniffed before continuing, her big blue eyes starting to look glossy. “It’s just Josh and his mom now- and a cousin- I think it’s his mom’s cousin.”

  Toby had a hard time grappling with what it must be like to be one of three members of a family. His own family wasn’t particularly large but he had his two sisters, his brother, mother, an uncle, two cousins, a few nieces and nephews, and some in-laws. After learning these things it seemed only natural for Josh to be so physical with those he cared about, it explained why he hugged everyone so tightly, why he took every opportunity to slap a shoulder or to let his guiding hand hover and gently touch the backs of his friends. He had a terrible fear of loss and an incredible capacity for love

  “I think maybe he did like- but he was too... you know... ‘Josh’ to realize it,” Toby meant too obtuse, because Josh *would* be too distracted by anything and everything to realize that he had in fact felt any sort of sexual and romantic attraction towards men as well as women. “And then Donna came along and there was no way he would've explored the possibility that he felt that way.”

  Josh of course had had moments of profound clarity, he would never have married Donna or been so successful as a politician if he hadn't, but there were some things that he could never decipher, never even managed to take into consideration, particularly about himself; it was as if he willed himself not to be self-aware out of some strange Josh-sense-of-self-preservation. Toby could only imagine how difficult Josh’s defense mechanism that protected his private self had made things for both of Josh’s Stanleys.

  “You won't tell Donna, will you,” Sam said, suddenly sounding panicked when he began considering what such a revelation might sound like to a recently widowed woman.

  Toby sat in thought for a moment.

 “Toby?”

  “I won't,” Toby assured him. “But Sam, do you honestly think she'd be- upset?”

  Toby didn’t believe that she would be upset if she found out. If anything it might make things easier for Donna, Toby reasoned, to talk to someone who had felt that way about Josh, someone whose love had been far more tender than anything Mandy and Amy had been capable of with Josh, something that was a far cry from intense sexual desire that had done nothing but bring out the worst in both members of the relationship and had made Donna absolutely miserable.

  Maybe Sam wouldn’t have to say anything, maybe Donna would understand. She’d always been astute and maybe now her grief would grant her some clarity, especially since there was no longer anyone to throw her off. She’d see what Sam had felt all those years ago, he wouldn’t be able to hide it no matter how hard he tried and she would see right through him, Toby was sure of it.

  Sam decided to change the subject.

  “Have you spoken to the President yet?”

  “No, I haven’t, there hasn’t been any time.”

  Sam understood, he nodded.

  “This won’t be easy for him, it won’t be easy for any of us,” Sam had to pause for a moment to clear his throat. “But especially not for him.”

  Toby sighed. Sam was right, the President’s grief would have to be measured. The leader of the free world couldn’t just take a week off, he couldn’t appear at meetings with heads of state looking scruffy in a stale smelling suit, an unshaved face, and without dress shoes.

  Toby rubbed his beard for a moment and took a deep breath.

  “They’ve got us - Donna, the kids, the grandkids - they’ve got us, we’ll make it easier.”

  Sam replied with a gentle smile that sent Toby traveling back decades, back when he’d first seen one of Sam’s loving looks directed at Josh and Toby had been profoundly confused because who could possibly love such a loud and abrasive idiot savant like Josh Lyman, it seemed nearly as impossible as someone loving Toby.

  What a fool he’d been then.

  Out of the corner of his eye Toby saw CJ standing on the porch, it was time for them to head to the White House.

  “Come on, Samuel, it’s time to go perform our mitzvah,” Toby said as he rose slowly and took Sam gently by the elbow and they made their way back into the house.  


	3. NYT Obit - Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Molly Ziegler-Wyatt gets a phone call from someone at the New York Times. There will be three parts to this chapter.

**Part I**

* * *

 

**_Washington DC - 2043_ **

* * *

 

 

Molly was plaiting her still slightly damp hair, taking note of the streaks of silver and gray that slipped through her fingers, when she was startled by the sound of her phone ringing. She chastised herself for her reaction, she had thought that she’d developed an immunity after the nearly incessant vibrating and pinging that she’d felt and heard since she’d started working at the White House.

 

Molly leaned forward to get a better look at her phone. "Margot Webber" scrolled across the screen and Molly released her hair, most of the braid coming undone as she did so.

 

"So, you’re the one Bruce assigned Josh Lyman to,” was Molly’s salutation.

 

There was no “hello Margot” or any other sort preamble. They’d known each other for years, since their grad school days at Medill, they were completely comfortable around each other and, given events of the last several hours, Molly wasn't in the mood for small-talk; she knew Margot wouldn't mind her cutting to the chase.

 

"I'm so sorry, Molly- for your family's loss and for having to call you like this," Margot replied softly.

 

One of the many things Margot had learned about Molly over their years-long friendship was how close the Zieglers were to the Lyman family, she knew what Josh meant to Ziegler family- what he’d meant to Molly. She knew that he'd once been dubbed “Uncle Squash” by Molly when she’d been a toddler.

 

"Thanks, but don't be sorry for having to call, it's your job. Besides, I'm glad it's you, you're the only other writer I'd trust to do this other than my dad and myself.”

 

Molly meant what she said. Not only had they known each other for years, they’d also written a book together and Molly had been following Margot’s articles in the Times for as long as her friend had worked there and she always looked forward to reading the narratives she created celebrating the lives of the people that the Times deemed interesting enough for publication.

 

There was a soft amused sigh from Margot in response to what she knew to be praise, it wasn’t often that a writer was mentioned in the same breath as Toby Ziegler.

 

“You’re not going to ask me how we found out before the White House has even issued a press release?”

 

“I was a reporter once, remember? I know you have your sources and I know you won’t give them up even if we’re old friends.”

 

“That’s never stopped anyone from the White House from trying to get us to rat out our sources,” Margot pointed out

 

"No, no it hasn’t. So, do you need comments from me or-" Molly paused, she felt ready to talk about Josh and his life but she knew that she wasn’t the only person Margot would want to speak to, she wasn’t sure how to answer the question she knew was coming.

 

"I feel a little rotten about this- I need- I was wondering... do you think any of the family would be up to speaking to me about him?"

 

Molly noted the hesitation in Margot’s voice. It was obvious that she was uncomfortable having to ask this of a friend. Margot had been in this line of work for years and Molly knew she couldn’t possibly be this hesitant with bereaved families. She could imagine her friend on similar phone calls, her voice steady and compassionate, letting family and friends of the deceased know that she needed something from them but she would also respect their feelings if they chose not to share anything with her.

 

By now the Lymans were used to being public figures, with Donna having been a Congresswoman, Katherine being one of the very public faces of NASA, and of course Jake being president; they would certainly be able to put brave faces on and grant interviews to members of the press.  But, as someone who saw the Lymans as family, Molly couldn’t help but feel that they also had a right to some privacy while they dealt with their grief; even if it was just a few more hours to themselves. Then again, who was Molly to decide for them, they might even find it helpful to share a few things about Josh as a husband and a father, not just the senior statesman that the country had known him as.

 

There was only one person better equipped to answer Margot’s question at that moment.

 

"Margot."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Do you think you could give me a few minutes to call Huck and see how everyone's doing? He'll have a better idea of who'd be ok talking to you than I would right now."

 

“Of course.”

 

“When’s your deadline?”

 

“The minute you guys issue the press release we’ll publish a few paragraphs online with an editor’s note stating that we’ll be adding to the piece, so I’ve got until 4pm to finish the longer piece. I don’t need an immediate answer they can have a bit of time to think it over, I’ll be going through our photo archives again and polishing the draft I’ve got while I wait for an answer.”

 

Molly knew how writing obituaries worked, they’d probably been writing draft after draft of Josh’s obituary for decades now, stored away in a physical or digital file somewhere; just waiting for the day he passed away. Margot had probably gotten to work creating her own draft the moment her editor had given her the assignment right after hearing about Josh being hospitalized the previous afternoon. It wasn’t all that different from when Molly had to write multiple drafts of a speech in case there was an outcome different from one the President and his staff expected. She knew all these things and yet she was a little thrown by the fact that Margot was virtually finished with Josh’s obituary and he’d died no more than two hours ago. Molly had thought that the reality of Josh’s death had really hit her when she’d been in the shower, away from everyone else, in a quiet place in her own home where she could process the day’s events. But apparently she wasn’t done feeling that strange grief that came over her and made her feel more hollow than sad as she accepted that what had happened at the hospital was real and that Josh was actually gone.

 

Molly closed her eyes tight and pressed her closed fist against her mouth as she felt the wave of emotion roll over her, it passed quickly and she returned her attention to her conversation with Margot.

 

“Alright, I’ll- I’ll call Huck. If no one’s up to talking about Josh I’ll give you a thing or two about him, or do some fact-checking. I could even give you a few numbers of people who might be willing to talk to you.”

 

“Thanks Molly, and again, I’m so sorry for your loss.”

 

“Thanks Margot, bye.”

 

“Bye.”

 

Molly ended the call and stared at her phone for a brief moment and inhaled deeply before speed-dialing her brother.

 

He picked up almost immediately.

  
“Huck, I’ve got a question for you.”


	4. NYT Obit - Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Molly gets the phone call.

**PART II**

* * *

 

_**New York - 2043** _

* * *

 

Margot knew perfectly well why her editor, Bruce, assigned her the task of writing the obituary for the President's father. She had never advertised the fact that she had the personal number of one of the president's speech writers but he of course knew that Margot and Molly had collaborated on a biography of Bella Abzug, that before that they had gone through Northwestern's journalism grad program together, and, like everyone else, he knew that Molly Ziegler-Wyatt was the twin sister of the President's brother-in-law; Molly was practically a member of the First Family and that gave Margot an in that Bruce was more than willing to exploit.

 

Margot was certain that Bruce had known how awkward it would be for her to write the article. Well, not the writing itself, that would be a relatively simple task, but the process everyone on the obituary staff went through of contacting those who had actually known the people they were writing about; that part was sure to be awkward. It was certainly true that she and Molly were close but she wasn't intimately acquainted with the Lyman family and she had no guarantee that she'd be able to make it past the person who was essentially their gatekeeper even if they'd gone to school together, worked together, and, unbeknownst to her boss, slept together as grad students.

 

She knew that Bruce had expected her to contact Molly directly, Molly was her “in” after all; but she didn’t make the call right after her source told her, after hours of waiting, pulling drafts, going through archives, combing through photographs, and composing an obituary draft of her own, that she would in fact be publishing by that day’s deadline. She had hesitated, waited far too long before even pulling out the phone that she'd shoved into her pocket after finding out about Josh Lyman's death. She didn’t have to call Molly, she had reasoned, she could get in touch with someone at the White House, someone else from the Communications office. There were plenty of ways to skin a cat and not all of them involved getting her friend involved.

 

But perhaps Bruce was right to think that Molly would be a better go-between. There was the possibility that if Margot went through the West Wing they would have someone ready to speak on behalf of the family, some spin doctor who would push for the rosiest possible picture of Josh Lyman’s life. Margot didn’t want something rosy that extolled Josh Lyman’s virtues as a Party Elder, she wanted something that felt real and intimate. There wasn't enough mud in Josh's life to drag his name through but that wasn't what she needed in order to paint a very human portrait of him, however, she would need far more than the White House was likely to give her. Maybe if Margot insisted they might let her talk to one or both of his two youngest children, maybe even his wife, but she was sure that no matter how hard she pushed they wouldn’t give her any access to the President.

 

On the other hand, with Molly there might be the slightest chance of speaking briefly with the President. Molly would be honest with her, she’d tell Margot if she thought the President might want to talk to her instead of trying to prevent that conversation right off the bat, she’d tell her if it was an imposition to interview family members or if they’d welcome a conversation with her. Hell, Margot thought, she might even feel comfortable enough to yell at Margot for calling so soon after Josh Lyman’s death, or hang up, or maybe not even answer her phone, and be sure that their friendship would survive that.

 

She was going to write about the shooting, the PTSD, the short-lived minor scandal after Josh had married his much younger former assistant, how his actions at the age of 27 caused his son’s presidential campaign a great deal of grief nearly 50 years later, whether the family wanted her to or not, but just like all the other people she’d called for previous obituaries over the years they deserved an invitation to be a part of the process. The best way of extending that invitation would be through Molly.

 

Many hours before she'd had to make the nerve-wracking phone call to Molly, Margot had gone through the New York Times’s archives, the “Times Morgue”.

 

Margot had looked at the dates the drafts had been updated, or when new ones were created, while the angelic voices of Monteverdi and melancholy strings of Marais took turns playing through her earphones. There were drafts of Josh Lyman's obituary going back a little over four decades.

 

The first one had been created when he was shot at the Newseum in Rosslyn, Virginia. It was a decent length for someone who had only been 37. It was an obituary fit for a D.C. wunderkind, lamenting a short life and celebrating the power and influence he'd had at a relatively young age by listing the many legislative victories he’d helped orchestrate and the presidential campaign he'd helped turn around.

 

One draft had prompted Margot to look through the photo archives in hopes of finding an image of Lyman’s grandfather who had been a judge on the Second Circuit Court of Appeals, simply because she was curious to see if there was any resemblance between the two men. She’d been pleasantly surprised when she had discovered that the Morgue had a photograph from a local Westport newspaper that included not only Judge David Lyman and his wife but also their son and his family. Margot was struck by how serious the judge looked, not angry or unpleasant, but almost as if he was standing for a Victorian family portrait and not for a snapshot taken in 1966. Despite the serious face Margot could see a pair of dimples that he shared with his son and both his grandchildren. Josh’s resemblance to his grandfather didn’t stop there, they had the same pleasant dark eyes and they would eventually have the same receding hairline; but in the photograph Josh still had all of his hair, a wild unruly mop of curls. It amused Margot that despite the differences in expression (five year old Josh was hamming it up for the camera) their shared physical traits were still very noticeable. Margot made a note to include the photograph she'd discovered if her draft was published.

 

The drafts got longer as the years passed, some accomplishments were replaced by others, depending on what each writer had found in the archives and what each one had thought readers might find interesting. The changes made to the final paragraph of each draft, though not unusual, caught her attention in particular, and she couldn’t help but feel happy about the alterations it had undergone after seeing that bleak 10-word-long final sentence in the very first draft. 

  

 

> "He is survived by his mother, Adelaide Lyman née Strauss."
> 
>  
> 
> "-is survived by his mother, Adelaide Lyman née Strauss; wife, Donnatella Moss-Lyman; children Jacob, Noah, and Katherine."
> 
>  
> 
> "- is survived by his wife, Congresswoman Donnatella Moss-Lyman; children, Jacob, Noah, and Katherine; and grandchildren Zachary, Samuel, and Rebecca."
> 
>  
> 
> "- is survived by his wife, Congresswoman Donnatella Moss-Lyman; children, Governor Jacob A. Lyman, Noah, and Katherine; and grandchildren Zachary, Samuel, and Rebecca."
> 
>  
> 
> "- is survived by his wife, former Congresswoman Donnatella Moss-Lyman; children, President Jacob A. Lyman, Noah T. Lyman, and Dr. Katherine Ziegler; and nine grandchildren."

 

Margot made the final change to the last paragraph of her own draft, at that moment hoping that it would be filed away with the rest of the drafts she’d gone through; but minutes later, after she’d made her way out of the Morgue shortly before its 3am closing time, she’d received the call from her source and she began mentally preparing herself for the call she’d be making to Molly two hours later.


End file.
